


the place you sleep

by asael



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Pynch Secret Santa 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9037526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asael/pseuds/asael
Summary: The evolution of their relationship, told in naps and dreams and soft bedsheets.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luz/gifts).



> This was written for Pynch Secret Santa 2016. It was really a delight to write thanks to the prompt I got! I love these two.
> 
> Of course, thanks to Kels and Rae for beta and encouragement.

_napping._

Ronan has always been aware that Adam - overworked and constantly exhausted - can fall asleep just about anywhere, but it’s not until everything is over, until they’ve started doing something he would tentatively call ‘dating’, that he really starts paying attention.

Oh, he definitely _noticed_ before, because the chance to get an eyeful of Adam relaxed in sleep was always a temptation he couldn’t resist. But now that they’re spending more time together it’s become something impossible to ignore. It makes his blood boil, knowing Adam is working himself to the bone like this, knowing he _has_ to. Ronan could dream him the world, but Adam wouldn’t take it, because to Adam it doesn’t mean much if he didn’t work for it himself.

It’s frustrating, but it’s Adam, so it’s kind of endearing as well. It means that Ronan finds himself becoming strangely protective of Adam’s naptime - leveling a steady glare at Gansey when he gets too talkative after Adam’s fallen asleep curled up in a chair at Monmouth, turning his music down when Adam passes out in the BMW on the way home. Staying very, very still when Adam falls asleep on his shoulder, despite the exquisite torture of Adam’s soft breath against the sensitive skin of Ronan’s neck.

Gansey notices and seems amused by it, but hasn’t said anything, which is good. Adam doesn’t seem to have noticed that it’s gotten easier for him to snatch a few minutes’ uninterrupted sleep, and that’s the way Ronan wants it. They’re still feeling out this thing, whatever it is, still figuring out each other’s rough edges and how they fit together. Ronan doesn’t quite know if it would cause an argument or if Adam would be pleased, would smile that surprised little smile and look at Ronan like he’s something impossible. 

He’s okay not knowing. He’s never been able to nap much himself, and Adam needs the rest, and that’s just how it is.

_falling asleep._

Adam got used to Ronan falling asleep on the hard wooden floor next to his bed quite awhile ago, so it isn’t much of a stretch when Ronan starts falling asleep _in_ his bed instead. Just a foot or two of difference, nothing much - but it’s everything in the world.

They fall asleep curled up together on Adam’s lumpy mattress during the week, when Adam’s days are packed full of work and school and the trip to the Barns and back is just too long. Ronan’s bed is far more comfortable, the Barns are far more comfortable, but when Adam has to be at work at 4am and at school at 8 and back at work at 5, those extra few minutes matter. And he still likes having his own space, still feels strangely proud of it even if it isn’t much.

But he likes sleeping at the Barns better. The beds are always soft and warm, and since Ronan’s moved into the master bedroom they have plenty of room for two. It was odd at first, sleeping so close to someone else, something Adam has never done before. But now he doesn’t know how he managed to go so long without it, and on nights when they’re apart he has a hard time quieting his thoughts enough to sleep.

With Ronan there, it’s so easy. Some of it is simple exhaustion - they’re two teenage boys in the fresh bloom of a new relationship, there was no chance they’d share a bed and be able to keep their hands off each other. Sometimes they do, sometimes one or both of them is too tired or distracted or otherwise not feeling it, but those nights are few and far between. Usually they don’t sleep until they’ve worn each other out, until he’s shivering from the aftershocks of Ronan’s lips on his skin, until Ronan’s fair skin is flushed with exertion. Then it’s easy to pass out, wrapped up in each other, the world outside their blankets meaningless.

But it’s not just that. He thinks back to Gansey saying Blue makes him quiet, and though it isn’t quite like that with Ronan - they’re two different people, after all, it was bound to be different - there’s a ring of truth to it anyway. Even when they don’t have sex, even when they barely kiss, Adam’s thoughts settle more easily with Ronan there. 

Ronan’s arm, draped over his waist, grounding him. Ronan’s nose pressed against his neck, Ronan’s short hair tickling his jaw, Ronan’s breath as it slowly evens out.

And there is the simple fact that Ronan can sleep next to him, that they’ve navigated things well enough that Ronan isn’t afraid of hurting him, doesn’t worry so much about pulling something awful out of his dreams. He still sleeps less than Adam, Adam still wakes in the middle of the night to find him with open eyes, gazing out the window by the bed, but he does sleep. He sleeps, and his trust eases Adam into sleep as well. The impossibility and miracle of it.

Adam’s thoughts quiet, his body stills, everything else falls away. He sleeps better and more deeply than ever before.

_nightmare._

The first time Adam has a nightmare, Ronan doesn’t know what to do.

His nightmares are different. His nightmares have physical consequences, a danger more present than any emotional consequences, and he’s lived with that for years. They aren’t pleasant, but he knows how to deal with them, and so does Adam. Adam’s slept next to him for weeks now without fear, and when Ronan has nightmares, they take care of what comes together. 

He knows that Adam dreams of awful things as well. He’s had more than enough material for a lifetime of nightmares, after all. But he also knows they mostly come when Adam sleeps alone, when he’s not so exhausted he sinks into a dreamless sleep almost instantly, and those times are rare. 

The first time Adam has a nightmare while sleeping next to Ronan, Ronan freezes.

He’s awake, or at least mostly awake, barely drifting in the outer limits of sleep. Adam has been out for an hour or two when suddenly he’s thrashing, crying out, struggling with the sheets. His eyes are open but unseeing, or seeing something else, something that terrifies him. Ronan sits up, and what is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to react?

He feels something like fear, though he knows Adam’s nightmares can’t hurt him, not the way Ronan’s can. But they can haunt him, and Ronan thinks of Adam’s father, and his fists clench. If Ronan could beat the shit out of him - if he could beat Adam’s nightmares to death - he would in a second. But he can’t.

He thinks about Adam matter-of-factly changing their pillowcases after one of Ronan’s nightmares, disposing of the bloodstained ones. He thinks of Adam burying the body of some misshapen creature that clawed at the sheets, and he thinks of Adam’s fingers, gently uncurling his fist to retrieve a jagged knife before either of them can get hurt. He thinks of Adam’s caution and patience, of how he laid down next to Ronan after each of those moments, careful but unafraid. He thinks of how his nightmares come less and less as Adam sleeps next to him, as if his presence is enough to calm the terrors, calm Ronan’s mind. As if there is no part of Ronan that wants to hurt him, not even his dreams.

Then he gets annoyed that he’s thinking too much. He reaches out instead, not letting himself overthink it, and slips his arms around Adam. He tries not to hold on too tight, to let him pull away if he needs to, but Adam doesn’t pull away. He shivers instead, with fear or memories, and something like awareness comes into his eyes. They’re still wide and terrified, but he’s _there_.

“Hey,” Ronan says, “I’ve got you,” and Adam breathes in with a shudder and leans into him, pressing his face to Ronan’s bare shoulder. Ronan can feel wetness, as if from tears, but he doesn’t say anything. He just holds on to Adam and doesn’t let go.

_apart._

By the time Adam goes to college, he’s gotten so used to sleeping next to Ronan he isn’t sure how he’s going to get enough sleep all by himself. And maybe that’s for the best - over the summer he indulged in far too many lazy mornings in Ronan’s bed, exchanging kisses and elbowing each other under the covers and Adam sticking his cold toes under Ronan’s shins and listening to him yelp and swear. 

Now that he’s back at school, he has to focus. It’s college, not Aglionby, and he has no intention of letting his standards slip. That means late nights studying, early morning classes, extra shifts at the student job he doesn’t really need but feels far more secure having. It means that the lure of a warm bed with Ronan in it would be too dangerous anyway, so it’s best that he’s so far away.

Or that’s what Adam tells himself, anyway. Of course he doesn’t believe it, not really, not down in the pit of his stomach or hidden in the recesses of his heart. Those parts of him do nothing but miss Ronan - Ronan, Opal, the Barns, the whimsical lived-in farmhouse he’s gotten so used to, Ronan’s BMW, Ronan’s bed. Their bed. Even when he’s entirely focused on his work, there’s a part of him that misses everything.

It’s when he’s alone at night that he has to remind himself it’s for the best. That it’s all right that his dorm room bed is small and cold, his blanket a little too thin. He has to tell himself this is necessary so he doesn’t think about how Ronan’s body would take up so much space, how Adam could curl against him, how warm he always is.

Then one day, five weeks into his first term, he opens a suspiciously large box sent from the Barns - from home - and finds a comforter. Ronan’s comforter, theirs, or an exact match - he can’t tell, he doesn’t think it matters. It’s warm, and it smells like Ronan and the Barns, and he thinks it must be a dream because it never loses either of those things no matter how long he has it.

For the rest of Adam’s years at school, he sleeps wrapped up in that blanket, and it’s like being wrapped up in Ronan. It’s not home - it never could be - but it’s a piece of it, kept close to him like a secret.

_dreams._

When Adam is home from college, during his breaks, Ronan’s dreams are full of light.

They aren’t perfect - he still dreams terrible things sometimes - but the mere fact of Adam’s presence seems to soothe them, pulling their tangles apart and letting Ronan sleep without fear. It’s not that he’s unable to without Adam, it’s just that Adam helps. Maybe it’s a leftover remnant of his connection to Cabeswater - Adam will always be the Magician to Ronan - or maybe it’s simply the love between them, strong and true and unbreakable despite distance and weeks apart.

He doesn’t think it’s just him, either. Adam’s visits home always seem to involve long hours of them curled up together. Sleeping in Ronan’s bed (Adam’s bed) after a long night spent showing each other how much they were missed. Falling asleep on the couch after dinner, Adam draped half on top of him. Long, easy mornings.

And dreams, all of Ronan’s dreams. 

He dreams of impossibly fragile flowers and careful forest creatures, rivers with fierce currents and drops of light hanging in the sky. He brings things back, waking tangled up with Adam and leaving them resting on his pillow, still in the habit of simply leaving Adam gifts instead of presenting them, even though Adam accepts things more readily now.

A music box that plays the murder squash song over and over, unless Adam is stressed, when it plays a soft lullaby. A pen that writes in a shade of blue identical to his eyes and never runs out. A coffee mug that says ‘wake up, asshole’ on the side and keeps whatever’s inside it warm for hours. A locket that, when opened, contains a single tiny oak tree, perfect in every detail.

Adam’s place at school - an off-campus room now, cheap but not nearly as shitty as St Agnes - is full of gifts like these. Though Ronan doesn’t give him everything, he finds it impossible to send Adam off without _something_. He dreams when Adam isn’t here, he lives his life and continues on in the same way Adam does, but they both know it’s better together. No matter what bumps the distance might create, when they’re sleeping pressed together here at the Barns everything is perfect.

Ronan doesn’t count the days until he’ll see Adam again. He doesn’t count the years until Adam will be done with school. Adam might - he doesn’t know, but Adam is the practical sort, so he might. All that really matters is these moments. Stacking them up one by one, building something better than Ronan could ever dream.

_together._

The simplest and most vital pleasure in Adam’s life is waking up next to Ronan Lynch. It’s like his heartbeat, his breath, something natural and easy that he can’t live without.

He has lived without it, for all those years at school, weeks and months spent apart with only brief oases of comfort, summer vacations and spring breaks spent wrapped up in Ronan. But once he finishes school, graduates with honors and the appreciation of his friends and professors, he doesn’t have to live without it anymore. It becomes a part of him.

Dream animals being unlike real animals, Ronan doesn’t always have to get up early to take care of them, but often he does anyway. Adam’s job and the commute from the Barns often wake him up early as well, and they blink at each other, bleary-eyed, snatching a few last moments in the warmth of their bed before Ronan trudges out into the morning and Adam gets the coffeemaker going, gets a little breakfast ready for everyone before they go their separate ways.

Those are workdays, commonplace and simple but no less perfect because of it. It’s routine, but there’s a part of Adam that’s still and quiet and content simply thanks to waking up next to the man he loves.

Other mornings are different. If Adam’s not working, they take their time getting up, Adam having learned the pleasure of a lazy morning in bed. It took him awhile to get over the guilt at the back of his mind at not immediately finding something he should be doing, but now Adam loves these mornings. Lazy kisses, slipping his hand under the covers to touch Ronan, slow and easy. Watching the play of light across Ronan’s sharp features when he wakes up and Ronan is still asleep. 

Sometimes they’re awakened by sunlight on their faces. Other times it’s Opal, galloping in to jump on the bed, little hooves kicking them awake until Ronan swears and pulls her down to nap with them for awhile longer. Sometimes Adam wakes when he rolls over in bed onto one of Ronan’s dream things, sometimes Chainsaw wakes them with insistent cries for attention or food. Sometimes Ronan wakes him, pressing their bodies together, hands wandering.

Adam treasures each of these moments. There’s no part of him that doesn’t love it, even when he’s sleepy and a little grouchy, even when he has work to worry about, even when Opal accidentally kicks him in the head. This is everything, this is his home. This is what he’s worked for and what he’s earned, and what Ronan has chosen to give him with an open heart and a steady gaze. 

He can think back to the boy he once was, the boy who would never have imagined this. Would never have dreamed it was something he could have, much less something he _would_ have. Adam still bears scars from his past, inside and outside, but he can look back on that boy with sympathy and the knowledge of what will come from the pain.

Every morning he wakes up next to Ronan is proof that each moment of survival was worth it. He doesn’t have any regrets.


End file.
